


Sins of the Father

by allthebeautifulthings9828



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bastard John Winchester, Dating, Fallen Castiel, Family Angst, First Date, Gen, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Human Castiel, John Winchester's Bad Parenting, Love, M/M, POV Dean Winchester, Post Episode: s08e23 Sacrifice, Protective Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-01
Updated: 2013-06-01
Packaged: 2017-12-13 16:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/826129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthebeautifulthings9828/pseuds/allthebeautifulthings9828
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Having had enough of Dean hiding his relationship with Castiel, Sam takes matters into his own hands. He won't let Dean deny that he's in love with the former angel, but nothing prepared him for his big brother's confession about the last time he was with a male. Can Sam undo yet more of John Winchester's damage before Dean runs from his feelings again?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sins of the Father

"Dean, come on." Sam rolled his eyes, clearly unwilling to deal with it anymore.

"What?" The bile of being caught churned in Dean's stomach. He remained cool on the surface as he poured pancake batter into the pan.

An exasperated huff lifted from his brother at the table. "You think I don't know? Really?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, man." He did, though, and he burned the edge of a pancake because of it. That one got set aside on Sam's plate.

"Dude, I can hear you. I can hear him too. The walls aren't that thick upstairs."

Dean froze, nearly spilling hot grease on himself in the process. He couldn't look at his brother and he suddenly hoped Castiel still slept, otherwise he'd have to bolt. Shame knotted his stomach. Shame because his brother knew he was seeing a man. Shame because he couldn't be a man and simply be with Castiel without fear or apology. To Castiel's credit, he never pushed. As "wrong" as it was for Dean Winchester to love a man, he suspected Castiel hadn't let go of the angelic mentality that it was "wrong" to love a human. Knowing Sam heard them having sex mortified Dean so much that he couldn't move.

"It's not a big deal." Sam drank his coffee as if he didn't have a care in the world. "I just don't like you keeping secrets from me. You're with Cas then. You figured yourself out a little later than other guys. So?"

"No…" Dean's memory spiraled beyond his control.

"No?"

As he scooped the last pancake onto a serving plate, he considered how it should be explained. Ripping open that scar burned more than hooks driven into his flesh in hell.

"There was one other guy," he finally admitted.  
Motionless, Sam's eyes became equal parts of confusion and compassion.

"After you left for school, I met this guy in Colorado on a case. We were friends. I don't know what happened, really. We were just … together." Dean leaned back against the counter, bracing himself. "Dad busted us in the back of the Impala. He dragged me out by the scruff of my neck. He said … well, it doesn't matter what he said now. Dad made his point and I had bruises for weeks. I never did it again. Never until Cas, anyway. I'm no sissy."

The darkness creeping over Sam turned to silent anger. "Unbelievable."

"Yeah, well, it is what it is. You weren't there." The comment probably stung but Dean felt like a cornered animal. He maneuvered around Sam at the little kitchen table and loaded his arms with butter, syrup, and jelly from the refrigerator.

"Look, Dean, it doesn't matter to me if you're gay. I'm not Dad."

"I'm not gay."

"Okay, bi."

"I'm not bi."

Sam twisted around in the chair and his face wrinkled. "What do you call it then?"

"Hell if I know. I'm screwed up, Sammy. Most of the time, I'm all for feisty curvy chicks. You know me. I've been chasing skirts since I could walk. Then there was Josh and then there was Cas. I'll go crazy trying to understand it, so I just don't try." He hadn't said Josh's name out loud in ten years. It sounded like a dead language in his ears.

"No, you just skulk around in secret afraid Dad will know. Dad's dead. You don't owe him anything, especially if he beat you for being with a guy." Shaking his head, Sam balled a fist, and rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Dean. Don't punish yourself or Cas for Dad's homophobia. If you're with him, be with him. Do everything with him that you did with Cassie or Lisa or any of the others. Don't hide him like you're ashamed of him."

"I'm not ashamed of Cas." Scoffing, Dean hardly knew what to think. He preferred the safe confines of the bunker. "What, like dates?"

The obviousness of the question brought out an enthusiastic nod from Sam as if Dean should have known better.

"I dunno, Sammy." His voice drifted far away. The questions turned over in his mind.

"Take him to a movie. Take him to dinner. It's no different than dating anyone else. He'll get acclimated to being human and you'll get acclimated to having a boyfriend."

Having a boyfriend. Dean let out a short, almost bitter laugh. He never gave Cas any kind of title but it sounded funny to have him called his boyfriend, though he supposed that's what he was. They lived together. They slept together. They ate together. They worked together - or they did until the three of them decided to take a break to recuperate from the trials. He certainly loved Cas but he hasn't said so yet. He didn't even know how to say it. The whole thing was a mystery to him.

"Quit over-analyzing and just take the guy out somewhere, for Christ's sake. It's not rocket science. This is the 21st century. You're not gonna be stoned to death for holding a guy's hand in public." Clearly done with the subject, Sam stood at his massive height and lumbered to the pile of pancakes. Absently, he added, "You don't want to mess this up, man. I lost Jess before I had a life with her. You're lucky Cas knows everything about your hunter life and he's still here. Take care of him and he'll take care of you. He always has."

There was no arguing with logic even though every instinct in Dean's body demanded that he not take his relationship with Castiel into the light of day. He could give in to those instincts but they weren't going to live in the bunker forever. Eventually the three of them would begin hunting again. He guessed people would know how they felt about each other just by looking at them. His choices were to either walk away from Castiel altogether or be a man and stand up against the memory of his father for what he wanted. At least Sam had his back. Charlie probably would too.

"Thanks, Sammy," said Dean long after the conversation ended. "Sorry … uh … you know, that you heard what you heard."

The elder Winchester disappeared before he saw the ‘whatever' smirk of amusement peel back Sam's mouth. Dean went to the bedroom before he had a chance to talk himself out of it. The fact that he had absolutely no sarcastic remarks throughout the conversation with his brother struck him before he got to the door. It was true that he'd been feeling himself change since the trials and since Castiel came home to him. Watching Sam grow as a man and not need a babysitter so much anymore slowly opened Dean to thinking about what he wanted and what he didn't want. Family. Hunting. The family business. He knew he'd never find companionship outside of hunting just as he knew no one could understand him the way Castiel did. Sam was right and it sobered him. He didn't want to mess this up and he couldn't keep worshiping a dead man who only approved of his sons if they lived the way he dictated.

Dean burst into his bedroom with the determination of a new hunt. "Cas, get up."

Startled - and being startled happened fairly often with his new humanity - Castiel sat straight up in bed. "Dean…" He rubbed his eyes, struggling to wake. "What happened?"

"Nothing … uh … here, wear this." He rifled through his dresser and produced a black t-shirt that was sent through the dryer once too many times and shrunk too small for him but probably fit Castiel rather well. "And this." He threw his cleanest, least ripped jeans on the bed with the t-shirt.

"Dean, what's going on?" Each new day of humanity brought more expressiveness to Castiel's face and that day, apparently, he mastered the ‘what the hell' look.

Hesitantly, though, he obeyed and reached for the clothing to get dressed. He climbed out of bed and Dean averted his eyes from Castiel's beautiful nakedness, unwilling to be distracted from the real task.

"We're going out," he said, knowing Castiel wouldn't get the double meaning. How do you ask someone on a date when you've already been sleeping with them for weeks and they've never dated in the first place?

Large, blue, questioning eyes met Dean's with a twinge of fear. "We're leaving home? I thought…"

"I know what I said. Thing is, Cas, we can't hide here forever. There's a whole world going on out there and half the planet's just like us."

Castiel pulled the t-shirt over his head and shot Dean one of his new sarcasm expressions. "Yes, fifty percent of Earth is populated by angels who had their graces stolen and are engaged in carnal relations with their humans."

"I was talking about dudes dating dudes and chicks dating chicks." Of course Dean knew they both struggled to accept their relationship for rather different reasons but he'd never heard Castiel say his struggle out loud. It stung a little.

Castiel shrugged and sat on the bed to put on his shoes. "Dean, I'm indifferent to sexual orientation. I would have wanted you whether you were born as a male or female. Your gender has no bearing on the decision for me. Until a few weeks ago, I had no gender. I just as easily could have taken a female vessel. I have many times."

"You've been a chick?" It sounded so bizarre to Dean.

"Yes, I've been a ‘chick'," replied Castiel with air quotes. "Briefly I was in Jimmy Novak's offspring. You saw that. I took a lady-in-waiting to Anne Boleyn and then a shepherdess in the eighteenth century."

Something about it amused Dean to no end and he felt his face trying to smile. "Were you hot?"

"My vessel's temperature was normal for a human female."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I mean, were you a pretty woman?"

Castiel looked up at Dean as if he just asked the most frivolous question. "Pretty? All humans are beautiful creations."

Another roll of Dean's eyes meant Castiel hadn't quite learned about physical attraction yet, except obvious attraction to each other. He abandoned the conversation and resumed coaxing Castiel out into the real world.

They drove in the Impala for an hour to the nearest town. Being behind the wheel of his baby felt so great that his elevated mood gave him the urge to drive with one hand on the wheel and the other laced up in Castiel's fingers. Do everything he would have done with a girlfriend became a present reminder. It was easy there alone in the Impala, despite needing to explain to Castiel why humans held hands. Once he understood, a quiet, satisfied little smile played his lips as he watched the road ahead and he squeezed Dean's hand tighter. It wasn't so bad.

A small five-screen movie theater presented itself in the town square and Dean decided it was time to introduce Castiel to some human culture. The walk from the parking lot to the theater brought a wave of nervous constriction in Dean's chest, especially when the former angel grasped his hand with the abandon of innocence. A woman smirked in passing and a few other people stared a little longer than necessary.

Oh God, Dean thought. This is it. I'm fucking out of the closet to these bumpkins.

Half-panicked, he looked over at Castiel, who walked along beside him as if he simply didn't give a shit that strangers perceived him as gay. He was indifferent. He didn't even notice. If anything, he appeared happy to be out with Dean at all. Dean took a breath. He forced himself to relax.

Choosing a movie presented another problem. Dean hated chick flicks but he knew Castiel's mental condition was still too fragile to subject him to violent action movies. He scanned the choices and strangely felt himself considering what Castiel would want rather than his own needs. Jesus. This was ridiculous. The chick flick was the only one that he felt certain wouldn't trigger another depression episode in the former angel after everything he'd endured.

Sighing, Dean paid for two tickets and then bought a bucket of popcorn and enough candy to feed five of them. As they sat together in the dark theater, Castiel didn't say much but his face seemed calm, even happy. That was a face Dean hadn't seen enough. A surge of warmth spread through his chest at the sight of it until he wanted to roll his eyes at himself and crack obnoxious jokes about going soft.

The sissy jokes, he abruptly realized, sounded like his father's voice.

His eyes shot away from Castiel to the movie screen, shocked by the realization. The surge of warmth toward Castiel turned to white hot rage toward his father, and then spite. He bit his cheek, grounding himself against the anger with physical pain. In a few minutes, it passed, especially when Castiel absently laid his hand on Dean's thigh. He didn't flinch. It was natural because they were natural.

After the movie, Castiel asked about cheeseburgers, so Dean took him to a drive-thru. They rode out to the edge of town and parked Baby by the river to eat on the hood like he used to do countless times with Sam on the road. Castiel talked incessantly about the formation of rivers on Earth and Dean listened to him, not because he was particularly interested, but because holding onto his history was important to the angel.

"Come here," Dean said after an interval of silence long after the burgers were eaten.

He pulled his iPhone from his pocket and slid behind Castiel on the car hood. With his arm around Castiel and their faces pressed together, Dean snapped a photo of them sitting together on the hood, obviously together and obviously … happy.

The next morning, before Sam and Castiel were awake, Dean sneaked onto Sam's laptop and printed the photo. They'd lived in the bunker for quite a while but the Winchesters were never the sort if family to hang pictures on the walls. Dean had a new life, he was his own man who didn't need permission or definition about his identity, and it was time to fearlessly make his own decisions.

That photo of Dean and Castiel still hangs by the doorway of the meeting room in the bunker. It's the last thing he sees every time he leaves to make a food run or to hunt a monster. In time, other random photos have joined it - Sam, Charlie, Kevin, and even Garth. But Castiel and Dean are always the center of the family.


End file.
